Thicker Than Blood
by leonheartgirl
Summary: Lavinia Farrow has spent her entire life as a loner. She keeps herself separated from the world due to her blood disease, fearing that she will hurt people when her death arrives. When she becomes the assistant at Flourish and Blott's and runs into George Weasley, everything changes.
1. Chapter 1

Another late night.

The air was humid, and Lavinia felt as though it was the middle of the day from the waves of heat coming off the ground. Her bare feet padded softly on the cobblestones of the alley, while her hand rested on her wand at all times. She knew how dangerous it was. The many purple Ministry of Magic posters and wanted Death Eater posters were just blatant and rather constant reminders. Bellatrix Lestrange's mad eyes followed her as she passed and she couldn't help but shiver.

But, she couldn't stay in her flat. She didn't know why, but ever since she moved to London, she'd had insomnia of the worst kind. Walking helped tire her out and it kept her occupied. Wandering around muggle London wasn't an acceptable option, so she stuck to Diagon Alley.

Lavinia sighed, pulling her hair into a ponytail. It was too hot for long hair. It was too hot for anything, except for a swim. For a moment, she thought of how nice it would be to apparate back to her parent's house and jump in the pond in the backyard, but a voice popped up immediately, scolding: _You know you can't handle apparating right now. You haven't had your potion in weeks._

A derisive laugh burst forward from her sneered lips and echoed down the alley. How could she forget, even for a damned moment. The potion. Her disorder. Her faulty body. She shook her head, trying to chase away the bitter thoughts.

Lavinia hadn't left home to keep the same mentality. She'd came to move on from her former life, and to make a new start. Or atleast attempt. There was only so much you can do when you had the same mind, body, and heart.

As she passed by the Magical Menagerie, she noted a light on in the upstairs of the Weasley's shop. She paused, thinking back to when they left the school in April. What a ruckus they caused, and always cause. She'd never said more than a few words to the pair of them, due to her solitary nature and being a Hufflepuff. She never ran in the same circles with anyone they would've hung around or been mates with.

Lavinia wondered, for a moment, what her life would have been like if she _had_. Perhaps George and she would have gotten on splendidly. She would have learned many pranks, and laughed ten times more in a week playing with the pair of them than she had in her entire life. Maybe she wouldn't be here, but somewhere else entirely.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and felt something inside her ache to be different. For her body to be different. If she had been born healthy, she would have been more outgoing. She would have had more potential, and she would have had more friends; she would've had different interests. She would have been able to play quidditch, or put her name in the Goblet of Fire.

No, she thought with a sudden laugh. Even if she had been healthy, she still would've been too young for the TriWizard Tournament. Lavinia relaxed and rubbed the back of her neck, before turning to walk back to her flat.

If she had been healthy, she wouldn't have been what made her Lavinia Farrow.

"I suppose I can deal with that," she murmured tiredly to herself and began the long walk home.


	2. Chapter 2

"That girl's out walking again." George heard Fred comment casually from the other side of our room. He paused from viciously towel drying his hair to look at him.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, trying not to sound interested. Every night for the past three weeks, a girl has been wandering the streets of Diagon Alley. At first, he had thought she had somewhere to be, or someone to meet, but after watching her for a while, he realized she never _went_ anywhere.

"Yeah," he said. "Bare foot this time. You would think her feet would start to hurt after the first hour or so." He sat down on his bed, pulling off his shirt and tossing it on the floor. George walked over to the window and watched. She was quite pretty, whoever she was. He'd noticed that ages ago. Very petite; fragile looking, even. She'd only come up to mid-chest on him, if that.

She walked slower tonight, as if she were concentrating on something. Her eyebrows were pulled together, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the window sill, chin resting in hand. She twisted her hair into a pony tail, then all of a sudden stopped. A loud sarcastic laugh sounded from her lips and Fred appeared beside his twin.

"Is she off her rocker?" he asked skeptically and George shook his head, though he honestly wondered the same thing.

"I think she's thinking," he said, his eyes never leaving the girl.

"You think she's thinking?" Fred asked and George looked at him briefly; his right eyebrow was quirked and he looked extremely amused. "Are you off your rocker too?"

"Shove off," George grumbled and Fred chuckled under his breath before walking away. As she got closer to the shop, he stepped back. The lamp would outline his figure in the window if he wasn't careful and he didn't want her to know he was watching. She paused and looked directly at the window and George grew very still. He knew her. The light from the window cast her into a yellow glow, her features prominent.

"Fred," George called. "It's Lavinia Farrow."

"No it's not," his twin instantly argued.

"Is too," George insisted. "Come see. She's changed her hair, but that's her."

He came to the window sill quickly and whistled. "Blimey. It is her. She looks so different."

George nodded in agreement, remembering how blonde her hair used to be. She had been in their year at Hogwarts, but she'd been in Hufflepuff. The only classes they'd ever shared had been Herbology. She never said much and she never had any friends, which was a little baffling to any that paid attention to her, which George had on occasion. If he was going to be completely honest with himself, he'd even fancied her a little bit throughout the years.

Angelina and Katie had told the twins that she was stuck up; they'd tried talking to her during classes, but she'd just given them quiet one answered replies. But George didn't think that was it. He'd talked to her once or twice. She just seemed... a little awkward and lost. Like she didn't really know how to relate to other people.

"I wonder why she's here. I thought she was going to end up like Charlie," Fred mused. "I always saw her hanging around Hagrid's hut, helping him out with the animals."

George suddenly smiled and he looked at his brother, a gleam in his eyes. "Only one way to find out, eh?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Thank you for coming," Lavinia trilled cheerily, faking every ounce of enthusiasm as an older gentlemen left Flourish and Blott's. "Old bugger," she grumbled, and Flourish shot her a look from the book shelves. She sighed and crossed her arms across her chest, willing the day to go by faster, or atleast to have nicer customers.

When she took the job, she had expected a little bit more. She didn't know what kind of more, but this certainly wasn't it. The pay was nice, and she got all the hours she wanted, but at the same time, it was slow. People had stopped coming to Diagon Alley unless it was important, because of all the happenings of Death Eaters and the news of You Know Who. The occasional customer would make her day, but that didn't happen often; it was too early for the school children to need supplies. She would catch herself day dreaming and have to shake herself out of it.

She began tapping her fingers across the counter in a random order, and a book snapped shut on the other side of the room. Her eyes widened and looked up to see Flourish rubbing his temples wearily.

"Lavinia, go take a break," he ordered calmly. The girl sighed once more before grabbing her bag. Slinging it across her body, she exited the shop and began to trace her normal path through Diagon Alley.

Exhausted was too light of a word to describe how she felt. The lack of sleep was starting to affect everything; the way she thought, the way she felt, and the way her body reacted to things. But she just _couldn't_ sleep. If she hadn't despised taking potions so much, she would've made herself a sleeping draught.

It was around one in the afternoon and everything was beginning to come to a steady halt. The few people were headed back from their lunch breaks and getting back to work, just as she was doing the opposite. Typical.

Florean's was practically deserted, so she made her way in the shop, chewing on her lip as she looked at the menu board. Florean looked up briefly and smiled at her in greeting and Lavinia did the same. She came by often and he was kinder to her than most of the others in Diagon Alley were.

"Your usual?" he asked, and she paused a moment before nodding. She was a creature of habit; She didn't know why she thought she'd change now. He quickly fixed the cup of ice cream for her, and waved away the few knuts she had pulled out. "That's not needed. You look like you could use a pick-me-up."

Lavinia felt a sudden surge of affection for the older man, and her throat grew painfully tight as she blinked back tears. She smiled genuinely for the first time that day. "Thank you."

"No problem, dear," he replied easily, and she took it gratefully, taking a bite as she walked back outside to sit under one of the umbrella covered tables. Chocolate ice cream with marshmallows and nuts. She'd heard muggles called it rocky road, but she thought it was preposterous: it was nothing like a rocky road.

The heat of the day was making everything grow fuzzy, and her eyelids began to flutter as she fought to keep herelf awake. She felt her head droop forward on the table and let go to being conscious.

_

"That's a bit of an odd place to take a nap, Ms. Farrow," she heard a voice declare.

Lavinia jerked upward, her eyes feeling as if they were about to pop out of her head. She looked up and blinked.

"George?" she asked incredilously. He nodded, leaning against the table casually.

"I was heading back from Gringrott's when I saw you here. Late night?" he asked, and she took a deep breath, nodding slowly.

"You could say that," she murmured. To avoid his gaze, she looked at the table only to frown deeply. "Damnit."

He raised an eyebrow, "Pardon?"

She sighed sadly and gestured towards the cup, "My ice cream melted while I was sleeping."

Apparently he found this amusing, because he chuckled and held up a finger, "Wait here."

When she finally realized what he intended to do, it was too late to protest: he was already in the shop. Shaking her head, she began to pop my fingers and knuckles in a pathetic attempt to liven up. George appeared with two cups of ice cream: hers, and a weird looking lime green ice cream with whipped cream and fruit shaped things on top. He set them down and she tilted her head, raising an eyebrow.

"What is that?" Lavinia asked warily, and he grinned.

"This? Only the best desert treat known to the wizarding world," he replied cheekily, winking at her. She must not have looked convinced, because he relented, "It's not caught on yet with everyone, but I assure you, it's bloody good."

She winced slightly at his phrasing but smiled and said, "I'm sure."

He suddenly stuck his spoon in her face and demanded like a three year old: "Try it."

A small laugh escaped her lips before she could hold it back. He took this as an encouraging sign and pushed it closer to where it was basically touching her lips. Watching him warily, she took a tentative taste. Her eyebrows raised and she reappraised the lime green substance. It tasted of peppermint and exotic fruit.

"Huh," she mused and he smiled, supremely smug.

"Told you. Everyone's just too scared to try it," he said confidently. Lavinia tilted her head, letting him know she agreed, and began to eat her own ice cream. She noticed him watching her casually out of the corner of his eye, and she tried not to let it get to her. After a few minutes of silence, he exhaled loudly.

"Soooooo," he began, drawing out the word in a comical way. She looked up at him, and noticed how deeply chocolate brown his eyes were. His expression was amused, but surprisingly kind. "What brought you to Diagon Alley?"

She paused for a moment, picking the easiest response: "I got a job offer at Flourish and Blott's."

He nodded, as if this were not unexpected. "You always did like to read."

Before she could stop myself, she raised an eyebrow cynically and asked, "And how would you know?"

If he was offended at all, he didn't let on, but simply shrugged. "I saw you in the library a lot, and you always pulled out books when Professor Sprout was busy getting attacked by a snargaluff plant."

For some reason, Lavinia felt flattered. George had actually paid more attention to her than she had ever thought possible. This revelation made her whole experience at Hogwarts seem different, somehow. She wondered what else she had been too withdrawn and oblivious to notice.

"Well, you're right," she admitted, a bit humbled. "But it wasn't... my first choice."

George took a bite of ice cream, and leaned forward on his elbows. "What was?"

She blinked, slightly taken aback. No one had taken the conversation this far. It had always stopped at the job acceptance, and the congratulatory squeaks that followed. She had to think of a way to tell him without revealing her medical problems.

"Well, I've always... been interested in Care of Magical Creatures. But... it just didn't work out," she said slowly, twirling her ice cream around in her cup. When he didn't immediately jump to the next obvious question, she began mushing the ice cream into a liquid, feeling nervous. She hadn't let this much slip in a long time. People never usually hung around long enough for her to do so.

"Don't give up," he said firmly. "I'm living out my dream, and I can't imagine doing anything else and being happy. That's why Fred and I left Hogwarts when we did. If I had been in some stuffy Ministry office like my mum had wanted me to, I would've already done a nut and turned a co-worker into a toad like someone did to Umbridge."

Lavinia laughed and George smiled widely, leaning back in his chair. She slowly felt a sinking feeling when she was brought back to reality. While he painted a pretty picture, it would never be like that for her.

She gave him a half smile and shrugged. She spoke softly, "I'm happy you've accomplished what most people try so hard for. But... sometimes you have to settle." She took her wand out and vanished the empty cup, before smiling tentatively at him once more. "Thank you for the ice cream and the talk. It was very nice of you."

The look in his eyes was unfathomable as he said simply, "I didn't do it to be nice, Lavinia. I did it because I wanted to."

She barely managed to conceal the surprise and confusion on her face before she nodded again, and murmured, "See you around, George."

"See you around," he responded, and she felt his eyes on her back the entire time as she walked away.


	4. Chapter 4

George Weasley was confusing. Lavinia must have thought this atleast a thousand times since she left Florean's, but she couldn't help thinking it again as she made her way home, her mind now free to wander completely.

Her attention span had been little to none for the rest of her shift, much to the chagrin of her boss. She was pretty sure he thought he bit off more than he could chew when he hired her, and she felt a bit bad about it; she wasn't always like this. _This_ being flustered and scatterbrained. I'll make it up to him tomorrow, she thought as she began the long walk up the stairs to her flat.

The elevator had been broken down for as long as she'd lived in the building, and she had to climb five flights of stairs just to get to her flat. She was used to it from Hogwarts, but it still annoyed her, to say the least. Lavinia had requested the first floor, but apparently they didn't have any openings. As she huffed and puffed her way up the third flight, a memory suddenly flooded her mind.

_I was late for Charms. The corridors were deserted and my frantic running echoed loudly, making me more self conscious than I already was. My bag bounced at my back, and the books I held in my arms kept slipping, even though I gripped them tightly._

I glanced over my shoulder, hoping a professor wouldn't come out to investigate what all the ruckus was about. More importantly, I hoped Filch wouldn't find me, or that cat of his, Mrs. Norris. They would tell Umbridge, and then I'd really be in trouble. Not paying attention, I rounded the corner and was suddenly knocked hard on my back by a rather tall someone.

"Oof!" I wheezed, rubbing the back of my head. My books were scattered on the ground beside me, and I sighed, closing my eyes briefly.

"Are you alright?" I looked up into the chocolate brown eyes of one of the Weasley twins. I nodded as I sat up, and he began picking up my books.

"Oh, you don't have to do that- erm, Fred?" I asked hesitantly. He laughed and shook his head, giving me a wry smile. I dropped my gaze, feeling embarassed.

"Where were you rushing off to?" George asked lazily, shifting my books to one arm and offering a hand to help me up. I took it tentatively, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"Charms," I murmured. "I'm late."

"Oh, they aren't going to be paying attention to tardiness in a few minutes," he said in a cheerful sort of way. I glanced at him quickly, my eyebrows furrowed. "And I'll assist you to explain that I wasn't paying attention and ever so rudely knocked you down, which I apologize for."

"No, no, that was my fault," I said quietly. He merely looked at me for a moment, before shrugging. We reached the classroom a few moments later, and he opened the door for me. Professor Flitwick looked at us and opened his mouth, but Fred cut in smoothly.

"I'm sorry to intrude, Professor, but I accidentally ran into Ms. Farrow on her way to class, and she bumped her head, you see. I wanted to make sure she got to class okay," he said sounding very concerned. I wanted to look at him to see if he was acting or not, but I knew that wouldn't weigh well in my favor.

Professor Flitwick's expression quickly mirrored Fred's, and I heard whispers throughout the classroom, causing me to duck my head even more.

"Of course, of course, Mr. Weasley. Lavinia, do you think you need to see Madame Pomfrey?" Flitwick asked, and my eyes widened in slight horror. I heard Fred snicker beside me.

"No, no, I'm fine," I said insistantly, and Flitwick nodded.

"You may go, Mr-" Professor Flitwick was cut off by a sudden BOOM_. The very floor beneath us shook, and I almost fell, but George caught my arm to steady me. The rest of the class didn't have as good of luck; several people were picking themselves up off the floor, complaining loudly._

"Class, go over the pages written on the board, and I shall be back," Flitwick squeaked, pushing past me hurriedly. When he was out of sight, George grinned. I looked at him confusedly.

"You'll find out soon enough, I suppose. I shall see you next Herbology lesson. Until then, Ms. Farrow," he said politely and gave an exagerated bow, before loping off down the corridor. I watched him go, feeling very ambivalent. 

Lavinia slowly walked up the last few steps, giving herself some time to catch her breath. Some times were easier than others, but this wasn't one of them. She swept her fringe out of her face, and reached into her pocket for the muggle keys to open the door. Normally, she would just open it with magic, but she didn't feel like fussing with making sure no one was around.

She unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping inside quickly. As she shut the door behind her, she heard the familiar mewl at her feet. Her cat Dinah looked up at her with wide eyes, and she smiled, scooping her up into her arms. She nuzzled Lavinia's face, and the girl felt her heart swell. She had had her since she was little, and she loved her more than anything. She was the smartest animal Lavinia knew, but that was because she had kneazle in her bloodline.

She set her on her feet and made her way to the bedroom, kicking off her shoes in the process. Dinah followed and soon hopped on the bed, curling at the foot of it. She methodically removed her clothing and changed into night clothes, trying not to glance in the mirror as she did so. Lavinia sighed, looking at her hands; she wasn't just pale. The veins were bulging and dark, sickening and horrifying to look at. She knew that she would have to sit down and make her potion tonight.

Pursing her lips, she tried not to let it get to her. It wasn't that she was bad at making potions; on the contrary, she was excelled in the area. But, depending on the potion was an entirely different story. Ever since she was little, Lavinia had had that sickly tasting concotion shoved into her mouth, teaspoon by teaspoon, until she thought she would scream. It was a neccessity, but that didn't mean she had to appreciate it.

Lavinia knew she shouldn't have waited so long to make it, though. It weakened her body much more than if she took it like she was supposed to. The healers told her that if she kept on the way she did, that one day she would be too weak to make it. She scoffed at the thought. It only delayed the inevitable. She wouldn't live out a normal lifespan, even by a muggle's point of view. She could die at any time, but she knew... she wouldn't live past the age of twenty two.

The thought sent a wave of agony throughout her body, and Lavinia blinked back an immediate flood of tears. She stepped blindly out of her bedroom and towards the kitchen, her mind conjuring up horrible thoughts. She would never marry. She would never have children. She would die at the peak of her life, having only lived a tiny fraction of what most people did. The unfairness of it caught at her every time, ripping at her with sharpened edges.

What did I do to deserve this? Lavinia wondered with a small sob, pulling out her cauldron and potions kit. Remembering she left her wand on her bed, she walked back and jerkily grabbed it before stalking back to light the fire. Wiping her hand over her eyes, she shook her head. I don't need to spend the night in a right state, she thought tiredly. And as she measured out the correct amount of hellebore, Lavinia distantly wondered if she was going to spend what little years she had left like this.

* * *

I hope you guys caught the reference to the twins setting off the fireworks throughout the school. :)


	5. Chapter 5

True to her word, Lavinia was much better the following day at work. She was courteous and polite to all the customers, and had begun sorting through the school books and the fiction, like she had been told to when she first started. Flourish was visibly impressed, which made all her effort very much worth it. When the shop had begun to slow down, she set her mind and devoted all her attention to putting up the school books on the display shelves.

It was comforting, in a methodical sort of way. She could allow herself to go on auto-pilot. To just focus on the colors of the different books, and the way the sun shone through the window, casting the mahogany wood in a much prettier light. Most would have found it mundane, but it was nice to know there was a specific system and way to do things.

After putting up over at least two hundred books from the looks of the shelves, she heard the bell sound, letting her know there was a customer in the shop. A slight sigh escaped her as I abandoned her task to go take care of whoever had come into the shop. As she rounded the tall shelf, Lavinia stopped short in surprise. George stood before her, and as he saw the expression on her face, he grinned.

"Why, hello. You seem a bit shocked that I'm here. I _can_ read, you know," he said cheekily, and she couldn't help but smile, albeit a small one.

"May I help you?" she asked quietly, and she could have sworn she saw a flicker of emotion cross his face, but it was gone before she could analyze it.

"As a matter of fact, you can," he said simply. "I need a book on more progressive transfiguration. Some ideas I have for the shop need some research done before I can go any further."

Lavinia nodded and quickly moved to the back of the store, knowing exactly what kind of book he needed. She heard his quiet footsteps behind me, and she wondered if he had thought any more about their conversation yesterday, or if it was just her that was obsessing over it like an idiot. Shaking her head slightly, she approached the book shelf, her eyes combing over it. After a moment, she smiled triumphantly and plucked a rather thick book off the bottom.

"This one here should be a lot of help," she explained softly, handing it to him. "It's got a lot of theories that could be useful to you, because it kind of encourages you to make your own spells. It has a spell encyclopedia in the back of it, and the proper ways to execute each one. The laws of transfiguration are in the front, and the side notes are very neat to look at."

George had flipped through it as she had been talking, pausing here and there to examine a paragraph. Nodding, he snapped it shut and smiled at her.

"It sounds like you know exactly what you're talking about," he said and she gave a small shrug.

"I've done my own research, and McGonagall gave out extra credit if you read it in seventh-" she slowly stopped as she noticed his expression growing more and more bemused. Warily, she asked, "What?"

He seemed to be debating whether or not to say what he was thinking, but finally asked, "Can you not take a compliment?"

Lavinia blinked, thoroughly taken aback. She hadn't realized that was a compliment until he pointed it out, but now it was rather obvious. Her eyebrows furrowed as she seriously thought of how to answer. George waited patiently, and she finally said, "I guess I don't know how."

This seemed to sober him up, and she didn't say anything further, but walked back to the front counter to tally up the total of the book. She felt very stupid. She couldn't even communicate with another person her own age without sounding like... like, she didn't know. As if she were socially inept and awkward and just all around freakish.

"It'll be nine galleons," she murmured, and he reached into his pocket. Lavinia was inwardly beating herself over the head with the very book he was holding, when he leaned on the counter, looking at her rather directly. He was smiling, but it seemed more genuine than his usual cheekiness.

"How about you and I go out sometime?" George asked. Her entire body froze up, and she felt her eyes widen a bit. A blush managed to creep over her cheeks as he waited for an answer, but he didn't seem to notice, or didn't let on that he did. She was flooded with a thousand thoughts, most of them bewildered. Why would he want to spend time with _her_?

Knowing she was taking too much time, Lavinia nodded. "Sure. That sounds fun." Her answer must have surprised him; he blinked and then nodded.

"Alright then. I could come to your place and pick you up, if that's alright with you?" he asked, sounding oddly formal. She smiled, nodding quickly, before giving him her address. "Alright then. Does eight sound good?"

"Eight sounds fine," she replied, and then the bell sounded behind George. A harried middle aged witch with two coltish looking boys walked in, and he quickly handed her the money, before backing away from the counter. As he opened the door to leave, a rather wicked smile crossed his face. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she didn't have to wait long to see what he was up to.

"I'll see you then, Lavinia," he called loudly and she had to fight to keep the embarrassment off her face as the woman looked at her with a rather knowing smile. He had done that just to embarass her. Her lips twisted in a rueful and begrudging smile.

"Cute lad," the woman observed, and they both watched him walk down the alley.

"That he is," Lavinia remarked under her breath, still unable to grasp that George Weasley had just asked her out on a date.


	6. Chapter 6

Lavinia had a date. A date with _George Weasley_. It was... surreal.

On one hand, she was... well, excited. This would be her first official date. Well, yes, she had gone to Hogsmeade with Johnathan a few times, but that had been different. Her mind couldn't wrap around the fact that George had noticed her, let alone that he'd thought enough of her to fancy her.

Her mind raced ahead and created all sorts of silly images to which she had to bite her lip against a smile. It filled her with a feeling she hadn't experienced in quite some time, that honestly terrified her: hope. Cringing, Lavinia waved away all her foolish notions until they wisped away like swirls of smoke. She had hoped before and it had nearly destroyed her. She couldn't allow herself to do so again.

She fluctuated between these thoughts for the remainder of her shift, finally deciding she was overthinking everything. If it was going to be, it would be, and her agonizing over it would probably ruin it before they even saw each other. Of course, she began to agonize over something entirely different after she had bathed. Lavinia flung open her closet door, examining the contents of her closet with a fervent and rather serious look on her face.

Her nicer dresses and skirts were shoved to the back; they were bought for her by her mother who couldn't stand for her only daughter to reflect anything but her refined and aristocratic teachings. Growing up, her most casual outfits looked like they came straight from a cotillion. Needless to say, she hadn't worn anything but blue jeans since she moved to London.

For once in her life, Lavinia felt grateful towards her mother's formal attire tendencies as she found a very nice tan crocheted shirt and a simple black skirt. It would be perfect. As she put them on, she sighed in another bit of gratefulness, although it was grudging, towards her potion. Her veins looked normal once more; she could even be mistaken for a healthy girl. She clasped her necklace in her hand, hoping it would look just like an accessory. It was really a potion vial in disguise; she needed to take a bit tonight at dinner to keep from shaking too noticably.

That thought stopped her cold as she was slipping on her heels. Her eyes closed and she sat there, head bowed. _How can I be involved with George?_, she wondered sadly. She didn't think so lowly of him that he would run in the opposite direction if he found out she was sick, but it was selfish of her. Letting someone get attatched to her when she wasn't going to live for very long. It was why she had stayed by herself at Hogwarts. She hadn't wanted to make friends, though the loneliness had crippled her in horrible ways. She was only hurting herself and she could deal with that. What Lavinia couldn't deal with was knowing she was hurting someone else because of her disease.

A knock on her door caused her to startle and open her eyes. Glancing at the clock she saw that it was eight o'clock sharp. She stood and smoothed her skirt before crossing her flat to open the door. The first thing Lavinia noticed about George was that he was dressed nicer than she had ever seen him. He wore black slacks and a cinnamon colored button down shirt. A careless smile graced his lips but his eyes were eager and brightened at the sight of her.

"I'm sorry-I'm almost ready. I just have to grab my wand and leave Dinah some food. I lost track of time," she said apologetically, speaking faster than she normally would have.

He shrugged, waving his hand dismissively and said, "It's fine. I'm not in any hurry."

Lavinia opened the door wider and as he passed her, she became oddly self conscious of her flat. She'd never had anyone in before. She noticed things now that she hadn't in a while: the deep hue of the blue green she had charmed one of the walls that contrasted with the white she had left, her gray couch and window seat, the small coffee table, her tall bookshelf that had more books on it than could really fit, and her bedroom in the back with the gray blanket on it. She watched his face but it never deviated from the easy smile.

A meow reminded her of the task at hand and she went into the kitchen with Dinah right at her heels. Pouring her some food Lavinia scratched her head, trying to find a sense of calm. She didn't know why she was so nervous. She ducked into the bedroom and picked her wand up off the dresser, tucking it into the pocket of her skirt. She had cast an unedectable stretching charm on it earlier so it fit nicely. Glancing in the mirror, she made sure her eye makeup hadn't smeared and that her hair was still held in place by the bun she had put up.

When she walked back in the living room, Lavinia noticed George held a picture of her parents that sat on the coffee table. He looked up and smiled at me ruefully, saying, "Lucky you. Only child."

She gave a small shrug and said quietly, "I'd much rather have another sibling to share the attention with. My mother is... overbearing at best."

George grimaced comically and shook his head. "I'd never thought of it that way. Mum is overbearing with _seven _children; Merlin help the unlucky child if she'd only had one." She laughed and he smiled wider. "Well, you hungry?"

Lavinia gave him a very genuine smile and replied, "Starved."

* * *

So, who is this Johnathan she went to Hogsmeade with?  
Don't be a silent reader! I'd love your feedback. :)  
Here is Lavinia's outfit.  
And, if you were curious, here is Dinah.


	7. Chapter 7

Lavinia bit her lip slightly as they began their way down the stairs, her mind racing at top speed as she over-analyzed everything. She worried that her outfit was too girly, if she was being too quiet, if he thought she was a strange girl for being so nervous, and the list just kept going. A small sigh escaped her and George looked down at her with his eyebrow slightly raised.

"Bored with me already?" he asked, his brown eyes twinkling merrily. Lavinia's cheek blushed scarlet as she shook her head quickly.

"No!" she insisted, already feeling like a failure. "I'm just... well- I..."

George neatly cut in, saving her from stammering, "Just keyed up?"

She breathed out a laugh, and smiled up warmly at him. "_Yes_. Is it that obvious?" He gave a small shrug, and she laughed a bit ruefully. "You're just being nice, now."

"Were you expecting me to be mean? What a horrible date you must have been imagining!" George said with mock horror, slapping a hand over his heart. Now she burst into genuine laughter and he smiled widely at the sound.

"Not exactly," she said, now proceeding with the most truthful answer. "But this IS my first date." She peeked at him shyly, but to her surprise, he seemed shocked. He stopped walking and she halted, gnawing on her cheek.

"No one's ever asked you out before? A beautiful, smart girl like you?" he asked sweetly, brushing his hand over cheek. Too stunned to respond, she merely nodded. He gave a small chuckle, and shook his head in disbelief. "I must be the only sane bloke around then, but I am also extremely lucky. I'm going to make sure I deserve that luck by showing you the best time possible. That sound good to you?"

His hand was still on her cheek when she smiled, and it curved to fit her face gently as she did so. Her blue eyes had more feeling in them than he had seen so far, and he felt his breath catch.

"That sounds perfect, George," she replied sweetly, and he grinned at her, before letting his hand drop. He quickly took her small hand in his.

"Well, let's get going then! I apparently have a lot of impressing to do," he said cheekily, and asked her, "Ready?"

_Or not, here I come_, Lavinia thought silently, thinking of apparation as an evil entity set on making life difficult.

"Ready," she confirmed, and they turned into darkness. Lavinia gasped the second she could draw air into her lungs; she felt faint and blinking white dots filled her vision.

"You alright there?" George asked, gently rubbing her back. She nodded and blinked rapidly, trying to concentrate on where they were. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to place their location. They stood in a deserted alleyway; the only light was a fading streetlamp, and the nearest door was quite curious: it was all black with a sliding panel of wood near the top.

"Where are we?" she asked, and he smiled mischeviously.

"You'll see," he said loftily, and raised his right hand and knocked three times. The wooden panel slid back to reveal a pair of eyes.

"Password," a voice barked.

"Mischief managed," George replied serenely. The panel slid back with a smack, and the door swung open to reveal Lee Jordan who grinned broadly. Now that the door was open, music, voices, laughter and all sorts of noises burst forth.

"Long time no see, Weasley," Lee greeted happily, before glancing at Lavinia curiously. She barely refrained from sighing; she knew he didn't even know who she was.

"Sorry it's been so long, Lee; the shop keeps Fred and me swamped. But, this has been my first time to stop by and I figured it'd be a good place to bring Lavinia. You remember Lavinia Farrow, right? Lavinia, Lee, Lee, Lavinia," he gestured between the two and Lavinia smiled politely.

"I remember Lee; you always commentated during the Quidditch matches," she said and Lee nodded, smirking.

"That I did, and you..." he trailed off, obviously not coming up with any recollections. George tsked and squeezed Lavinia's hand.

"She was a quiet one, a model student unlike ourselves," George finished with a broad grin. "Now let us in so we can have some fun!"

"Right you are! This way," Lee instructed, waving them forward into the darkness. Lavinia held tighter to George's hand as a wave of nervousness washed over her.

As her eyes adjusted, she saw that they stood on the edge of a dance floor; young witches and wizards thronged together, all dancing enthusiastically under enchanted lights that changed with the beat. On the outskirts of the floor, there were clusters of booths and tables. Lavinia could even make out a bar in the distance. Sound assaulted them on all sides, but Lavinia soon recognized the song being played.

"The Weird Sisters?" Lavinia asked in an almost shout to Lee.

He nodded and leaned down to her level, "Yeah, we just booked them! We've been trying for weeks; it's good for business to have someone popular. The little cover bands and such are nice, but this really draws them in."

"The Map is awesome, Lee!" George complimented loudly. Lee grinned widely, bobbing his head with the rhythm of the music. It literally pulsed through the building, making standing still impossible. But it was infectious; Lavinia already felt like dancing, and that was something she hadn't done in years.

"Well, I better get back to it, Georgie! Have fun! Nice to see you again, Lavinia!" Lee told them, before dissapearing through the crowd. George led her over to a booth and waved over a waitress.

"What would you like to drink?" she asked Lavinia. She almost said butterbeer, but on impulse, she decided on something else entirely.

"I'll have The Phoenix," she replied naming off a popular alcoholic drink, and she saw George raise his eyebrows and grin in bemusement. She smiled back at him, giving a slight shrug of her shoulders.

"Alright then. I'll have The Snitch, thanks," George told the girl and she nodded before dissapearing. He gave a small laugh and said, "I would've pegged you for a butterbeer."

She smiled and said, "I figured I'd try something different."

Just then the girl came back and handed Lavinia a tall, curvy glass that was all colors of red, orange and yellow; it almost seemed to glow in the dim atmosphere. She tilted her head and admired it, while George took his cylinder shaped glass that was completely golden.

"Anything to eat?" the girl asked, and Lavinia shook her head.

"Maybe in a bit," she answered. When the waitress was gone, George lifted his glass.

"To different," he toasted and Lavinia smiled widely.

"To different," she echoed, and they clinked glasses.

* * *

Think hard about the password and the name of the club. Clever Harry Potter nerds will get it.


	8. Chapter 8

Some people grew unihibited, sloppy, and rather unattractive under the influence of alcohol. It seemed to have the opposite effect on Lavinia. Though she did become more outgoing, it was in a charming way; she told jokes, stories, and entertained George with her normally hidden wit. Her cheeks, which were always so pale from her disease, were a pleasant, flushed pink and her hair had mostly fallen from the messy bun to wave gently at her shoulders. They had moved to the same side of the booth some time ago so they could hear each other over the boisterous crowd.

"So, I'm _completely_ drenched, covered in mud, standing by the lake, while Dinah just stares down at me from the BIGGEST pine tree possible, with the smuggest look on her face, and then Fang runs over, barking like mad, and knocks me into the lake!" she had to pause for laughter, and George was doubled over, holding his side, his laughter loud even in the club.

"You're joking!" he gasped, an infectious grin spread across his face. She grinned back and shook her head back and forth rapidly.

"Not at all. That was the worst day I ever had and it was the day of O.W.L's, too!" she exclaimed, a bit of old indignancy resurfacing. She huffed out and crossed her arms, looking for all the world like a small child being refused a toy. George found this incredibly adorable and couldn't help but chuckle.

"O.W.L's were a bit of a waste of time for Fred and I," he said lazily, leaning back in the booth with a lanky sort of grace. He took a drink and shrugged, adding, "We got three a piece."

Lavinia's eyebrows shot straight up, and she blinked, before saying, "But I know you two aren't stupid." George let out a snort of laughter at the blatancy with which she stated it; as if it were just a fact.

"Well, no," he said, smirking, "But we didn't study."

"Oh," she said, nodding. "What were the O.W.L's?"

George's eyebrows screwed up in thought, and he ticked off the subjects on his fingers as he listed them, "Charms, Transfiguration... and... bloody hell... what was the last one..." he trailed off, before snapping his fingers. "DADA! Honestly though, if Lupin hadn't been teaching, I doubt we would have pulled it off."

"Lupin was SUCH a good teacher," Lavinia enthused, smiling. "I learned more from him in one year than I did with the other six."

George grimaced, saying, "Especially with the Umbridge hag."

They both made expressions of severe disgust, and Lavinia huffed, "I still have those effing scars on my hand from when she made me write lines. I've tried everything, but they won't go away."

George raised an eyebrow curiously; tilting his head, he asked, "What did she give you detention for?"

Lavinia's lips pressed together and gave her hand a cursory glance, thinking of the Howler her mother had sent Umbridge because of Lavinia's disease. It hadn't healed for weeks. Shaking her head, she took a deep drink and held out her hand to him. He took it gently and looked. In very neat cursive, though with a bit of sharpeness to it that suggested irritation, was written: "I must not believe liars."

When he looked up at her in bewilderment, she explained, "After you two left, everyone was talking about where you two had gone, and someone said you two had run off to join the Order of the Phoenix, which was just silly because you _said_ you were starting your joke shop."

"Umbridge had a little fit, saying you two were just spreading lies and would be handled accordingly by the Ministry, and, well, I didn't take that sitting down," Lavinia paused briefly, remembering how appalled Umbridge had been; the quiet, model Hufflepuff student making a scene in _her_ class. She shook her head and continued, "I wrote lines for two weeks."

George sat shocked into silence for a moment, and traced his thumb over the words, slightly humbled. His words were whisper quiet in the club, but she still managed to hear him as he said, "I'm... honored that you stood up for us. I'm so sorry that _wretch_ of a woman made you do this."

He paused and kissed her hand impulsively, his lips brushing the scarred flesh with surprising tenderness.; Lavinia felt her breath catch and her entire body was covered in goose bumps. Suddenly the music changed to something slow and George looked up with a mysterious smile on his face.

With quick movement, he stood and pulled Lavinia up with him. She stumbled slightly, but he kept her steady as he led them towards the dance floor. He gently pressed Lavinia to his chest, his hands neatly wrapping around her waist. Shakily, she wrapped her arms around his neck and felt her heart beat in her ears as she stared into his eyes. He smiled at her crookely, and she couldn't help but smile back.

George leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "I have a confession to make."

Confused, Lavinia whispered back, "A confession?"

He nodded and looked her straight on, their faces close together as he said, "I've honestly been waiting for the chance to take you out for years," George paused, trying to come up with the right words. "I've always fancied you a bit. You've always been so pretty, and smart, but there has always been something about you... like there's some light shining deep down, but covered up. I've always wanted to see it. I'm a curious bloke, y'know," he chuckled briefly, brushing her fringe out of her eyes softly. "But, I'm just apologizing for not doing this a long time ago."

Lavinia's eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and her lips curled into a small and pretty smile. George ran his fingertips gently down her face and realized they were trembling. Her eyes were wide in her face, and he murmured, "Can I...?"

"Please," she whispered, and he gently pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that was achingly tender. She pulled him closer and they stood still in the middle of the dancing crowd, even as the slow song changed to a something quite fast paced.

They finally pulled apart when someone bumped into them; they burst into laughter, and he pecked her lips once, grinning widely before grabbing her hands and twirling her around. Giggling, she began to spin in and out of his embrace as they danced to something that was completely wrong for the song. Lavinia couldn't keep the smile off her face; she closed her eyes and completely gave over herself over to George and the rhythm.

* * *

I smiiiilllledddd the entire time I wrote this. :)))


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